Destiny of the First Mage
by Laputian-Blackwriter
Summary: The summer before fourth year, Harry finds a geek culture shop containing manga, comics, and fantasy/sci-fi books, completely changing his outlook on magic as well as the course of history.
1. The Shop

The summer after third year for Harry had not been a particularly pleasant one. Though he was pleased that his godfather, Sirius, had eluded capture, it also infuriated the boy that he had been so close to capturing Pettigrew, thus ensuring Sirius' freedom, yet the dirty rat escaped because of ineptitude on his part. Had he been able to drive out the Dementors quicker, or even simply recall that it had been the night of a full moon, Sirius would now be free and he would not have had to return to the Dursleys.

Be that as it may, his ever-pleasant relatives were now wary of him after the incident with Aunt Marge, and had made some efforts to leave him in peace, which suited Harry just fine as he was in no mood to deal with them. Suffering intense nightmares on a regular basis was one thing, but he certainly did not have to add his relatives on top of that deal, who would most likely laugh if he ran to them crying about his scar hurting.

He had already dismissed sending a letter of concern to his two best friends, or even Dumbledore for that matter – what would he write the Headmaster? He could already imagine the letter: "Dear Professor Dumbledore, my scar is hurting. Sincerely, Harry." No, that wouldn't work either.

Harry sighed as he tossed the book of Quidditch aside due to boredom, standing up and staring at his reflection in the mirror – a skinny, lanky teen nearly fourteen looked right back at him. He briefly considered trying to comb his hair, but of course, it was impossible to get it to sit flat and he would have wasted his time. He even wished for some homework to do – anything to keep himself occupied, and remembering the world he called home, instead of having to know he was _here_.

As he desperately figured out what to try to do, Hedwig, who he had let out of her cage for a bit to get some exercise, gave a hoot as she flapped her wings, landing on top of one of Harry's tables and tipping over an old paperweight, which gave a dull thunk as it hit the ground.

"Hedwig, please be careful," Harry said with a sigh as the owl bobbed its head in acknowledgement – to his surprise however, as he leaned over to pick it up, he heard the metallic rattle of coins suddenly hitting the floor. Looking down, he saw that the paperweight was not a paperweight at all, but an old toy money bank, most likely one of Dudley's. Bending down further, he could see that the metallic rattle was, indeed, caused by coins – he reached down to grab some, and felt the thick chunkiness of a significant number of them.

_It's most likely Dudley's allowance money, maybe some he had completely forgotten about_. The boy reasoned, which certainly fit his character – his chubby cousin had received more than his abundance of money, most of it spent on sweets and fast food, and given the clutter that this room used to have the Dursleys must have simply forgotten about it in their bustle to quickly move him from his cupboard.

Picking them up one by one, Harry wasn't surprised at how much there was – Dudley had always received quite a fair amount of allowance, more than a child should have received. However he grinned as he realised what he could do with them.

Harry never received anything from the Dursleys, and all he had in his possession was magical currency, which was absolutely useless in the muggle world. If he had enough of his own money, he wouldn't ever need to rely on the Dursleys again for food, meaning he wouldn't have to spend all of his time trapped in the house.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The only reason he stuck mostly to the house was for food and shelter, and a small fear of being bullied, which was nowhere near likely to happen now since he was not a child any more. Dudley was obviously spending all of his time away with his gang, most likely bullying little children, meaning that he would easily be able to avoid him – and he also recalled that there were plenty of buses and train stations to get to other parts of Surrey, as he had no desire to spend any time at all in Little Whinging. At the very least, if he left the house, the Dursleys wouldn't continually try to make his life as miserable as possible, and since he conveniently forgot to mention that his godfather was innocent, they were afraid of trying to harass him, for fear that a mass murderer would show up on their doorstep.

With his mind made up, Harry quickly got changed, sticking the money in one pocket, and a few galleons and his wand in the other to be safe, before opening the window. "Feel free to get some air, Hedwig," Harry said as he petted his owl. "I think I might be out all day."

The bird nipped his fingers playful before giving a hoot, flying out the window. Harry turned around, going out the door and down the stairs – he snuck a peek in the kitchen, and seeing that Petunia was distracted, baking a cake for no doubt a social event, Harry discreetly opened the door and walked outside.

It was an absolutely gorgeous day. Harry stopped for a moment, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly, feeling lighter than he had the entire summer, even lighter than he felt at Hogwarts.

Today was Harry's day. _His _day. A day in which he didn't have to deal with maniacal dark lords, soul-eating monsters, hateful relatives, or any external pressure at all – just a day in which he could do whatever he wanted.

-HP-

It had been ridiculously easy for him to take a bus to central Surrey from where he was free to do whatever he liked. As a county literally a stone's throw away from London, Surrey was a hive of activity, and as Harry walked the streets he was amazed at the number of people – since much of his time in London had been spent at the Leaky Cauldron and subsequently Diagon Alley, he did not have as much of an opportunity to see for himself the highlights of a metropolitan hub, and since he had been mostly raised in a suburban area, this truly was the first time he saw how big the world really was.

Taking a moment to pause, Harry sat down on a nearby bench for several minutes, simply observing the people going about their daily business before moving eagerly from shop to shop – clothes, books, entertainment, it didn't matter since he wasn't really planning to buy anything. He simply looked through everything on catalogue, spending extra time going through the entertainment stores looking at the blurbs of books and movies, wishing he had a television of his own or at least a way to watch DVDs without the Dursleys knowing.

After most of the morning had gone by Harry was feeling extremely hungry. He wanted to go into one of the larger chain restaurants, remembering how he never got to eat anything whenever the Dursleys took him to a fast food place, but, seeing the large number of people queuing up in the lunch hour frenzy decided against it.

In his attempt to find something to eat, he had taken a series of turns and gone down a few streets, not really knowing where he was going. By the time he had figured out he was lost, Harry had no idea where he was, and no idea which street to take to get him back to where he was originally.

_This seemed like a great idea up until now, _Harry thought morosely, feeling his leg muscles ache from all the walking. He desperately wanted to sit down, but couldn't help but meander around Central Surrey aimlessly. Such an amazing public figure he cut out – a sticky teen wearing baggy, old clothing, wandering around with a vacant look in his eyes.

How he was famous was beyond him, and to some degree he even preferred being here in the muggle world – just in the short time he had experienced today he realised how much he had missed without the presence of the Dursleys. In the muggle world, he was just some normal, skinny teenager people could pass over, with normal teenage problems. He wasn't active getting involved in life or death situations on an annual basis, nor was he actively forced to be someone he wasn't.

How much of the magical world's beauty was relative to his situation with the Dursleys? Would he have still found it all amazing, had he been raised in a normal muggle family? He dismissed that line of thought – magic was still a major part of his life, a connection to the parents who he never knew. Sometimes however, Harry wondered whether it was all worth it.

BANG! So lost in his thoughts was the boy that he hadn't looked where he was going and had bumped into the glass display of a store on the corner. Rubbing his forehead in annoyance for a pain that actually didn't originate from his scar, his eyes promptly widened and he nearly screamed as he came face to face with a grotesque, green face.

He only realised half a second later that the beast wasn't real and just a painted statue – looking down, he could see various miniature replicas of it, all with the logo emblazoned 'WARCRAFT'.

Where the heck was he? Harry looked up to the store's name, which was there in steely blue font: CODEX.

Harry's curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't help but go inside.

Immediately the boy could tell this was a completely different store from even entertainment or video shops. As well as the stacks of merchandise, posters were proudly on display everywhere of cartoon figures he had never seen before – a gruff man with an eyepatch aiming a weapon, a strange, funny looking yellow mouse with elongated ears, and an orange-wearing blonde boy, grinning cheekily with what looked like a knife between his teeth.

And it was mostly empty, aside from a group of gawky looking men sitting at different tables, each with a laptop out.

"Hey, I've changed my build to an Arcane Mage – you know any alternate rotations?"

"Just focus on building mastery for a bit..."

"I must say, I don't really like how Naruto's going at the moment..."

"Do you want to have a game of Magic the Gathering after this?"

Arcane Mage? Naruto? Magic the Gathering? Harry looked at them in confusion, wondering whether they were wizards as well, before walking towards a bookcase, glancing at the titles on offer – one look and he was even more confused.

"Can I help you?"

"Gah!" Harry spun around in surprise to see a plump man with glasses and long shaggy hair, probably in his early twenties. "Ah – I'm sorry, you startled me." He said apologetically.

The man chuckled. "Not a big deal. Are you looking for something in particular?"

"Er... I'd like to know... what is all this stuff?"

The store assistant looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Like..." Harry felt absolutely ridiculous as he gestured to the entire store. "This."

He seemed amused by Harry's question, but decided to entertain the boy anyway. "We're an RPG shop, but since RPGs draw the same kind of crowd together we also deal in other things as well."

"RPGS?"

"Role-Playing games," the man clarified. "It's basically a type of game where players assume the roles of characters in a narrative fictional world with a completely different setting and rules. The traditional type is the pen and paper RPG, where players basically direct their characters' actions in through speech, but nowadays you get RPGs in video games as well."

"Video games? You mean like Mega-Mutilation part three?" Harry asked in confusion, referring to the Playstation game Dudley had been addictively playing all summer.

The store assistant snorted. "How that game ever made it to the shelf is beyond me. No, I'm referring to games in which you have to think, to solve puzzles, to actually live out the life of a character you've created. They're games where for every choice you make, you have a consequence."

"And they all revolve around wizards and magic?" Harry asked, almost half-jokingly – though he certainly didn't expect the answer.

"Not all of them, though mostly the term wizard is used to refer to someone like Gandalf from Lord of the Rings. You certainly get warlocks, different types of mages and spell-casters though," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There's also a company called Wizards of the Coast – they manufacture a _lot _of games."

"Do they take a lot of time to do, these RPGs?" Harry wondered, feeling himself slightly overwhelmed by all this information.

"Well, yeah, they can get quite complex and take a few players to do well, so of course they can."  
"I see... what about these, then?" he gestured to the large bookcase.

"Well, we need to have a bit of a clean out, but that's a mix of rulebooks and compendiums for tabletop RPGs as well as fantasy books – if you like to read, you can try out a few." The man walked to the bookstore, humming a tune under his breath as he picked out several thick tomes, stacking them in a pile on a large and plushy sofa. "Here, that should keep you busy."

Harry couldn't help but find himself growing more and more curious as his eyes flicked to the books' spines, reading the assortment of different titles. He was certainly no Hermione, that was sure, but strangely enough, even without her nagging, worrying voice encouraging him to study he wanted to read them – and it wasn't like it was studying at all, was it? He was simply reading for fun, and though Ron might protest to that he certainly wasn't here to do anything about it. "Is there anything else you would recommend?"

"To do with magic and wizards?"

Harry gave a sheepish look. "Er..."

"Don't worry, it's not a big deal here," the man chuckled. "If you're a fantasy person that's fine, I've always been more into my sci-fi anyway."

"Just for anything," Harry relented. "Anything else you think is interesting or really cool."

"Well that's quite a general statement, but I'll bite. Just things you can read?"

"Uh... at the moment, I don't have access to a DVD player or a playstation." Harry said hesitantly.

"Television broken?" The man asked, though he clearly didn't expect an answer as he moved off, grabbing things from other bookcases before adding them to the now sizable stack of books. "I've added some manga you might like – that's Japanese comic books, which is extremely popular worldwide – also a few graphic novels as well, to get you started. That should be fun."

Harry paused in shock as he looked at the stack. "I don't think I can pay for all this."

"It's not a big deal. Come here and read, there's a cafe next door as well. Just don't take the books outside and I can save them for you when you return." the man said with an easy grin. "I'm pretty much here all the time anyway."

"Whoa..." Harry breathed. He wasted no time getting started – the wizard quickly flopped down, his hungriness temporarily forgotten, picking up the first book, titled 'Lord of the Rings', and opened it.

-HP-

Events that are so dramatic, they can change the entire course of a person's lifetime are indeed few and far between – that is, for an average person. For someone like Harry, however, they happened on a nearly regular basis. And this singular act of finding some muggle money and getting the idea to go out of Little Whinging into Central Surrey would once again alter the boy's course, arguably just as much as when he had received that fateful letter.

For just as much as he had received an invitation to Hogwarts, the discovery of a humble, non-corporate shop entirely devoted to the passions of geek culture and run by the local social outcasts who needed a way to move out of their mother's homes opened an entire world for him – and this time, he was free to make his own choices, unbound by opinions, biases and the sway of others.

Harry literally spent the rest of the whole day at that store, reading and reading, completely engrossed in the vast, epic story of good versus evil, of race against race. Considering the trilogy was by now a certified classic, the store owner, who introduced himself by his DM (Dungeon Master) name, Axanus, was glad to sell the tome with all three books for half-price. Harry had never been so engrossed in a book in his entire life, and he read it from cover to cover in literally several days.

Harry promptly returned to the store and got another book from the stack, after owling Hermione with a request for a loan for muggle money and making up an excuse that his relatives weren't feeding him properly. He got his reply the very next day in the form of a large basket of snacks and cake, as well as a reasonable stack of notes with a letter promising him they were 'interest free', and, naturally, urging him to keep up with his homework (which had been done at the very start of summer, which Harry had been very pleased to tell her in his reply).

For weeks, all Harry did was read and read, and visited Codex so frequently he was on a first name basis with most of the regulars – college students or recent graduates, he had noted, who were pleased to see another who could appreciate things they were so passionate about.

The 'cafe' that Axanus had told him about on his first visit, was none other than an internet cafe. For a pound, Harry could surf for several hours or play games and he soon frequented this place as regularly as Codex, first buying his lunch after a morning's reading, spending two or three hours at the cafe chugging his way through the campaign in Starcraft, Skyrim or a Bioware RPG, then returning back to Codex to continue through his books.

By summer's halfway mark Harry had already consumed a large volume of books, RPG rulebooks and compendiums, not to mention manga and comics. And having read so much of them, distilling the good from the awesome, he couldn't help but make comparisons between himself and the characters he so read about.

With a bunch of manga and comics all strewn across his bed, Harry was sitting down, his legs crossed as he contemplated the similarities. _In a lot of the really good ones, the main protagonist is always an orphan, _Harry mused. _And in the manga, most of them are either an orphan, have one parent dead or have parents who barely notice their presence at all – and they all possess special powers as well. _

Edward Elric the alchemist. Naruto the ninja. Ichigo the death god. Goku the saiyan. He could go on and on, but though their powers certainly weren't anything special as many others of their universe could do what they did – somehow, they were always singularly unique.

_And I'm the same aren't I? My parents were killed by an evil dark lord who's still out to get me. And then I discovered that I could do magic though I'm certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to that._

"It's certainly a trait with Shonen-type manga and other companies," Axanus had stated when Harry made a verbal observation about the similarity of many manga heroes. "And trust me, you're not the first one to notice it."

"It can get a little grating at times," Harry answered. He had wanted to complain about how virtually every character shouted out their special move and therefore declared their intentions, before realising that as a wizard he did that too. "Actually, the most annoying thing is when the character is so weak and helpless he needs a deus ex machina in order to help him win, even more than how stupid some of them seem."

"Except what's even worse is a character that's absolutely overpowered, like Alucard from Hellsing, who's basically invincible and unkillable in their universe." Axanus pointed out. "At the very least with Superman, he has one critical flaw."

Harry frequently enjoyed these conversations with the regulars at Codex, who were more than happy to talk with him about their favourite subjects. Having his mind opened up in such a way, Harry had learnt a lot more as well, especially on fascinating subjects and interesting terms like 'deus ex machina'.

Oh, he certainly had no love for academics – he wasn't a Ravenclaw, having a love of knowledge for the sake of knowledge itself. But this was a completely different case, and one in which he was more than eager to firmly grasp.

Axanus continued his argument. "The appeal of a typical Shonen protagonist, for me, has always been their personality... their guts, I suppose – Ichigo, Naruto, for instance. Their sheer audaciousness and disregard for danger, even against impossible odds, is what makes them so likeable. Alucard is so confident and, for lack of a better word, 'badass', because quite frankly nothing can hurt him so he has nothing to fear – take away his powers, his strength, and how fearless would he be?"

"Even though Naruto's main advantage comes from the Nine-Tailed fox?" Harry pointed out.

"Don't forget that even without it he still has four times the amount of chakra as an elite jounin," Axanus said with a grin. "Anyone can be easily cheapened and simplified – Batman is basically a normal man with gadgets, Superman is just a brute with ridiculous benefits because of his heritage – but it's never about their powers. It's always about how they use them, right? Batman's gadgets stem from his incredible intelligence, Superman's quality is in the way people rally themselves around him like a symbol of hope – the worst thing someone would want is some whiny teen who complains and does nothing."

Having spent so much time in the company of nerds with basically no one else to talk to, Harry found himself thinking some unusual thoughts as he sat on his bed. _If my life were a manga, and I were a Shonen-type hero... obviously my special power is using magic. But what's my unique asset? _He hummed in thought for several minutes, absent-mindedly feeding Hedwig some owl treats as he did so. _I'm not a genius who can use my special power without normal aids, I don't have a monstrously powerful demon sealed inside of me, I don't have massive levels of this special power or a sheer capacity for growth like Ichigo... _Harry sighed. _And while my magic is the best type of magic one could have – the type that bends reality, it's still _nothing _on ki, chakra, mana, chaos magic, blood magic, the Force _(he had a massive movie marathon one day while the Dursleys were all away, and Star Wars was at the very top of his list)_... heck, if you think about it, I can't really do anything at all aside from a few little tricks. _

But there indeed WERE some things he shared with many heroes. He knew, without a doubt, that he was brave, almost blindly so – it was stupid to deny something as blatant as that. He was a Gryffindor for a reason, and he probably was as Gryffindor as they got: stubborn, hard-headed – and though Snape might not like to admit it, determined. Learning the Patronus charm, which was supposedly very powerful magic, had shown him that he could do something if he put his mind to it.

And most of all – he shared the same advantage with every single good-guy manga hero in existence: sheer, dumb luck.

But it wasn't something he could rely on, since pure luck didn't win fights. It swung the advantage in the character's favour, that was true, but it was never the deciding factor and he highly doubted there was some sort of benign author above him who would give him some ridiculous advantages he had not worked for.

His curiosity growing, Harry had sent a letter to Hermione asking for books about the nature of magic and also on powerful wizards and witches in history – Hedwig returned with a massive parcel of several books, which was more than enough to keep up with his growing appetite for interesting topics, even though he blazed through three quarters of them in a week.

The most difficult one to get his head around was actually the thinnest book – Fondue Montique's_ 'Theories on the Nature of Magic'. _At first, it had seemed impenetrable, and much of it he didn't get, as it involved a lot of Arithmancy and translation of ancient runes. But, after skipping a lot of useless conjecture and speculation, Harry got to the conclusion in which he found the answer he wanted:

**_Verily, much of which has been recorded hath been mere hypothesis. Indeed, methinks we wilt never know the true nature of magick. It wilt always be reduced to the thought of man, for it is man's thought from whither magick manifests, and whither it returns. For all our knowledge, in face of magick's might, thither will never be a day when wizardkind truly masters magick – for magick is limitless, and surely a spark of God._**

Translation: Magic is virtually unlimited in its use and applications, it is only limited by what we think it can do, and can never be truly understood. It is so powerful it can change things on a godlike scale.

Everything that Harry wanted to hear.

Unfortunately the book was the only one that was actually interesting – the rest was a bunch of mumbo jumbo. The history book on powerful witches and wizards was even worse, as all he got was a simple 'who's who' on well-known witches and wizards and a brief background of them – nothing at all in-depth about what they could do with magic.

The very next day, as Harry was brushing his teeth after sending Hermione another letter thanking her for her books, as well as for the recent birthday gift, a thought suddenly came to him – one so sudden, so crazy yet so blatantly obvious it almost bordered on being a Yoda moment.

Why didn't he apply the principles of the books, comics and manga he had so loved to read these holidays, to the magic he was doing?

It had seemed ridiculous at first. The notion itself was unbelievable. But as Harry went through his day, the subject in the back of his mind, gradually he began to wonder if it was as ridiculous as he had thought.

Magic was a supernaturally unlimited force. Montique had clearly established it – there were no true 'laws' of magic, only guidelines. It fit itself to its user's specifications, and because of this, it was possible to do anything. And he knew even wandlessly it wasn't too much of a stretch, after all last year he had seen Professor Dumbledore perform wandless magic _twice_ – once to save him from falling, and the other to conjure hundreds of sleeping bags in the Great Hall.

Soon, the idea became too irresistible – Harry returned home a little after lunch, coming into his bed room and locking the door behind him (even though Vernon had the key, it would at least slow the man down).

Sitting cross-legged on his bed, Harry lay a manga book in front of him, about a metre or so away, as he took in a deep breath, and tried to do it the way he knew how. _"Wingardium Leviosa," _he intoned, waving his finger like it was an imaginary wand.

The book didn't budge at all.

Harry closed his eyes, recalling the accidental magic he had done as a child before immediately dismissing the thought of attempting to force it. He was almost certain he could do so if he made himself angry, like what had happened to his Aunt Marge – but that wasn't the point of his experiment. Accidental magic was just that – accidental. It was also uncontrolled, unpredictable and wasn't precise. He needed to be able to use it in every situation, without any interference from his emotions at all. The Jedi were able to access the Force and become more in-tune with it through meditation – maybe he could do the same thing?

Closing his eyes and stilling his breathing, Harry cleared his thoughts and focused on nothing.

At first he thought it was working, but then his mind began to wander – first he began wondering about what his friends were doing, then he began to recall the nightmares he had been suffering over the past few weeks, only alleviated by the lack of stress he had in his summer days. Finally, after five minutes, he exhaled, collapsing back as he realised it wasn't working.

Somehow, he needed to separate his thoughts and emotions from what he was doing, but that was impossible as Harry wasn't the most patient person in the world, nor the calmest. Maybe he should just sack the whole idea of meditation altogether.

_But I certainly don't want to make outbursts either_, Harry thought in realisation. A temper and wild emotions had made things difficult for so many heroes, yet the few that remained cool and calm even in the midst of danger always managed to get out of things alright – Batman, for instance, and his coolness probably came from his martial arts training and meditation.

But then how was he able to stop thinking completely?

Briefly his thoughts flickered back to a dense fantasy series he had started reading before stopping at the halfway mark due to its complexity. They had a technique, something which helped them focus on the moment and eliminate any concerns.

Straightening up and closing his eyes once more, this time Harry didn't think of nothingnes, s – after all, how could a fourteen year old teenager literally think of nothing? Instead, this time he visualised an empty, cold Void, with a sole Flame within it, burning slowly like on a cool winter's night.

He held this portrait in his mind for a moment, before slowly visualising his thoughts, emotions and concerns, feeding them into the flame, until there was nothing left but the emptiness of the Void.

Holding the visualisation in his head, Harry opened his eyes, feeling a cool detachment that he had never really possessed, a far cry to the frenzy of thoughts before. He raised his finger once more. _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_ he intoned deeply.

Still nothing, though whilst holding onto the Void Harry didn't feel frustrated as he normally would have -

TAP-TAP-TAP!

Harry jumped up in shock, his hold on the Void vanishing completely as he looked to the window, seeing Hedwig outside looking rather ruffled and impatient. "Oh – sorry girl!" He apologised awkwardly as he quickly got up, opening the window and letting his pet owl inside. "I completely forgot you went out, it was my fault."

Hedwig gave him an sharp nip on the fingers, as if to tell him off before jumping back on its perch – this summer Harry had allowed his owl a great deal of freedom and had even made a crude perch for her, so she didn't have to spend all her time in her cage.

His attention returning, Harry narrowed his eyes at the book, which remained stubbornly gravity-bound. _Right. That didn't work, but I know I'm a step closer to what I want to do. _

Harry decided to try the meditation exercise again, just by itself, doing it for as long as he could, something made extremely difficult by external noise. He was frequently distracted by everything from the talk of the Dursleys downstairs, to the occasional bump of Dudley's heavy, ponderous steps outside, and even Hedwig as she ruffled her feathers, gripping the perch with sharp talons.

Even though it seemed futile, Harry worked at it for as long as he could, until he could hold the Void for at least a few minutes without getting distracted. After he had ascertained he knew the basics, he quickly grabbed the book series in question, 'Wheel of Time' from its shelf on the cabinet, massaging his temples delicately from the amount of mental focus even as he skimmed through the books, looking for the relevant passages.

After ten minutes of searching, he grinned as he found the passage he was looking for. _Here it is – the main character, Rand, has his first taste of the One Power whilst in the state of the Void. _He flicked through the rest of the book before looking through the next ones, and found another passage that supported this notion:

**_"That is what it is called . . . in some places. The Oneness. To learn the full use of it, it is best to wrap it around you continuously, to dwell in it at all times, or so I've heard." _**

Harry closed the book in satisfaction, tossing it to the side before resolving to force himself to do it as much as possible.

-HP-

And so after several days' worth in which Harry regularly entered the meditative state, holding it for as long as he could, he felt that he had progressed enough with the exercise that he could try to do magic once more.

Setting the manga book once more a metre from him, Harry sat cross-legged, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing before visualising the Void – it had become easier and easier for him to do so in fact, and as he fed the Flame his thoughts, memories, pains and emotions, he felt an almost sobering calmness wash over him.

But this time, instead of holding the state for as long as he could, Harry began to visualise a faint pinprick of light, one that was growing stronger and stronger as he reached for it.

An unnatural warmth began to emanate from slightly below his chest, spreading through his body with a tingling sensation that was not unpleasant. Harry's breathing slowed down as his heart beat steadily, and, almost unconsciously, he began taking deeper breaths of air, inhaling and exhaling in an almost mechanical fashion.

Once the warmth had completely filled his body, Harry opened his eyes, narrowing his gaze on the book, feeling the need for petty wand waving and incantations become irrelevant as he focused. _Levitate_, he whispered in his mind.

The manga book began to tremble a little bit, which slowly turned into wobbling as Harry intensified his gaze and focus. With a bit more effort, the book slowly but surely, as if pulled by an invisible force, began to wobble more and more violently, until it finally started to hover, higher and higher until it was several feet in the air.

_I did it! _His elation at finally achieving his goal this week broke his concentration, causing the book to fall back on the bed but that didn't bother him as he could continually refine it, after all. Harry grinned as he relaxed, falling back on his bed.

He had actually done something which supposedly powerful wizards were only able to do. He had done a deliberate, concentrated act of wandless magic, and as he looked up at the ceiling, his grin unable to be kept off his face he wondered why he hadn't tried something like this sooner. The effort, and the determination it took to do great magic, and the feeling of accomplishment afterwards – was Ron rubbing off on him that badly? Magic was really fun!

Harry tried it again several times before taking a break, his nose buried in the rulebook of _Mage: The Ascension. _

Inwardly he was buzzing, and he found that he was actually _eager _to do something like this again, and continue to learn new magic with his wand as well. _So many people wish they had powers... yet out of all of them _I'm _the only one who does. Why am I wasting it uselessly? _

Briefly the boy wondered just how far he could push it.

-HP-

A/N: For this story, I chose the onset of Fourth Year as in my opinion Harry improves vastly, mostly due to the Tri-Wizard tournament which also means he's exempt from exams and classes(?).

At the moment, the most drastic change is Harry's goals and personality, thanks to him doing all that geeky stuff. His priorities have completely changed now that he realises what a gift he has in being able to use magic, and though he will never be a Hermione, he's almost like Naruto - he always wants to learn cool new spells, though he will actually do the work in order to be able to do so, not take shortcuts like Naruto has.

As you can see, the main bulk of his character influences comes from Shonen manga characters, but I'm going to be actively drawing from other mediums and content as well to make it as broad and as varied as possible, especially when he comes around to creating a new system of magic.


	2. The Quidditch World Cup

A/N: Before anyone else points it out – I'm well aware that the Harry Potter fics canonically happen in the 90s, and that none of the things I talked about had even existed then aside from a few. I'm updating the fic's era to the modern day (though I'm embarassed to say I forgot to mention it).

-HP-

Harry felt as though he had barely slept before he was being shaken awake.

"Time to go, Harry, dear," the matriarch Weasley whispered, moving away in an attempt not to wake Ron, who was currently snoring away.

Towards the end of the summer he had received an invitation to leave the Dursleys' early and go to the Quidditch World cup with the Weasleys, an opportunity that he normally would have jumped at with enthusiasm, but even as he had written a quick affirmative reply, Harry couldn't help but feel an inkling of disappointment.

This was genuinely the best summer he had had at the Dursleys. Thanks to Sirius he was left alone, for the most part, and Dudley's forced diet meant that his obese cousin was distracted, allowing him even more leeway. He could practically do whatever he wanted, with little pressure. It was stress-free, nobody was trying to kill him, and Harry could simply laze around all day and read comics.

But then yet another part of him missed the place that had been like a home to him, even though it seemed stupid, considering that returning to said home the past years meant that he had been nearly killed on a regular basis. Still, at least he was going to see his friends again – a definite plus – and briefly he wondered how many of them, such as Hermione, would take to his 'reading material'. _Ew, that phrase sounds so dodgy. It's not like I'm a perverted nosebleed. _

Harry got up, feeling around in the dark for his glasses before putting them on, rubbing his neck to loosen the tense muscles there as he began to put on his shoes.

Two dishevelled figures at the foot of his bed emerged from their tangle of blankets. "S'time already?" One of the twins asked tiredly.

"Yep," Harry swiftly got dressed, his early morning grogginess already disappearing as he headed downstairs into the kitchen, the other boys following a little later.

Mr and Mrs Weasley were wearing muggle clothing, and the former stood up eagerly. "Well, what do you think? Do I look like a muggle?"

"Yeah, pretty good," Harry answered with a grin.

"Where're Bill and Charlie and Percy?" George asked with a tired yawn.

"They're apparating, so they can have a bit of a lie-in," Mrs Weasley answered, heaving the large pot over to the table and ladling porridge into the bowls.

Apparating. Instant teleportation. Harry _seriously _needed to learn how to do that.

"They're still in bed? Why can't we apparate too?" Fred grumbled as he picked up his porridge.

"Because you're not of age and you haven't pass your test," Mrs Weasley snapped before looking up in confusion. "Now where are those girls?" She bustled out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"So, you have to pass a test to apparate?" Harry asked in concealed disappointment.

"Oh, of course," Mr Weasley answered, tucking the Quidditch tickets into his pockets. "It's not easy, apparition, and when it's not done properly it can lead to nasty complications – like splinching yourself."

Everyone around the table except Harry winced.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Splinched?"

"Leaving a part of yourself behind," Mr. Weasley clarified. "Knew a couple of people who were fined the other day for doing it without a license, and left half of themselves behind. Of course, it's easily fixed by the right people, but it means a fair bit of paperwork, especially since muggles spotted the body parts they left behind... plenty of adult wizards don't bother with it. Prefer brooms – slower, but safer."

_That sounds nasty, but the benefits are obvious – I mean seriously, instant teleportation – way too cool! _Harry grinned which nobody at the table noticed, due to their drowsy states as they carried on with the conversation. _I wonder what the likelihood of splinching yourself is? And, say if I learnt it myself, I would be able to fix whatever damage I did during practice? Though it does sound quite serious. _

By the time the females arrived, it was about time for departure, and aside from an incident in which Mrs Weasley confiscated a batch of the twins' ton-tongued toffee, the atmosphere was relatively pleasant as they walked to the Portkey, which Arthur had already explained was a method of magical transportation.

Hermione trudged up beside the green-eyed wizard. "So Harry, I forgot to ask – how were the books I sent you?"

"Well, the one on the nature of magic was the most useful one, despite being the most dense," Harry answered. "The one on well-known witches and wizards was too broad and gave too much of an overview, and the rest were, in a word, useless."

Hermione scowled. "Harry, how can you say that? Even if they weren't specifically the ones you were looking for surely you can appreciate them by themselves!"

Harry shrugged. "Sorry Hermione, but I didn't really see any use for them at all."

"I'm _not _saying that you didn't, I'm just saying that even without looking for something you can find them interesting."

"Except I didn't."

Naturally, they continually argued the rest of the way, Hermione arguing from the classic view of an academic in which all knowledge was good knowledge, and Harry calmly rebutting her, taking his personal view that if it wasn't useful or at the very least interesting then it was, basically, dead weight.

Codex, as an independently owned store by enthusiastic nerds, stocked a _lot _of interesting books that weren't in the mainstream collective, and it wasn't like Harry just read fiction the whole time he was there – he had made sure to branch out, if ever so slightly, reading one or two other books that weren't particularly difficult to comprehend, and he certainly made sure to visit other bookstores in Central Surrey on rare occasions. During that whole time there he was clever enough at least to work out what he wanted, as he knew that it was impossible to read everything and he certainly didn't _want _to read everything – he just wanted to read things that were cool, useful or interesting. If it didn't fall under one of those three categories he didn't bother with it.

Climbing Stoatshead Hill had been a massive difficulty, and the two broke off their argument as they stumbled around in hidden rabbit holes or slipped on thick tuffets of grass. By the time the group made it up, Harry was panting deeply, clutching a stitch in his sides as he realised just how horribly unfit sitting around an entire summer and reading made him.

"Whew!" Mr Weasley wiped off his glasses. "Well, we made it in good time! We've got ten minutes! Now just to find the Portkey..." He squinted as he replaced his glasses. "It won't be big... come on now..."

Just before the group spread out in search of it, a shout broke the still air. "Over here, Arthur! Over here son, I've found it!" Two tall figures were waving towards the group from the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" Mr Weasley said with a laugh once they had walked over, shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a brown beard holding a mouldy old boot in his hand. "Everybody, this is Amos Diggory – works for the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I think you all know his son, Cedric?"

A strong, handsome-looking boy around seventeen years old walked up. "Hey," he said with an easy-going grin – the group promptly greeted him back, with the except of George and Fred who were presumably still stinging about that loss in Quidditch to Hufflepuff.

"Long walk Arthur?" Amos asked.

"Not too bad, we just live on the other side of the village, what about you?"  
"Had to get up at two – I tell you, it'll be fantastic when Ced gets his Apparition test. But the Quidditch World Cup, obviously I wouldn't miss it for the world. Are all these children yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads. This is Hermione and Harry, they're both friends of Ron's," Arthur stated, pointing them out.

Amos gaped in awe as his eyes widened. "Merlin's beard, it's Harry _Potter_!"

"Hn." Harry nodded, restraining his annoyance to the standard Uchiha answer.

Thankfully the man didn't seem to notice as he jabbered on enthusiastically. "Ced's talked all about you, of course, I said to him – 'Ced, it'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will'... _you _beat Harry Potter!"

"Harry fell off his broom dad," Cedric interrupted even as Fred and George scowled at the reminder of the game. "I told you, it was an accident."

The boy in question interjected quickly before this could get even more awkward. "Dementors, actually, but it doesn't matter, it's only a school Quidditch game after all, right?"

Amos narrowed his eyes, most likely in annoyance at him detracting away from his son's accomplishment. "Er – yes, of course..."

"Must be nearly time," Mr Weasley interrupted, taking out his watch. "Anyone else, Amos?"

"Not that I know of, the Lovegoods have been there for a week and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets. Don't think there are any more in the area, are there?"

Harry turned to the twins. "So there's only four wizard families living in the area?"  
"That's right. There's a big muggle community as well as us, anyway – can't have too many wizards living in the same place or the muggles'll notice..."

_That's really weird. Only four wizard families in such a large area. Well come to think of it, in comparison to all the muggles, the community of wizards is relatively small... are we in a declining phase? _

"Alright, it's just a minute off, we'd better get ready," Mr Weasley said. "You just need to touch it, even a finger will do..."

The group crowded around the old boot with great difficulty due to their bulky backpacks, in a tight circle.

"Three..." Mr Weasley kept his gaze on his watch. "Two... one..."

Harry suddenly felt a hook on his navel as his feet left the ground, spinning around uncontrollably in a howl of wind and colour before suddenly his feet slammed back down again, the others all staggering over him as he fell over rather unceremoniously – looking up, he could see that Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory, and Amos were the only ones still standing.

"_Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," _a cool female voice announced.

-HP-

Harry was amazed at the number of foreigners that had come in for the Quidditch World Cup, looking around in fascination as he saw many different teenagers – some older, some younger, and some his age – camping, sometimes proudly displaying their school signs along with the team they supported.

After setting up their tent and getting purchases from some of the shops, in which Harry had generously provided his friends with Omnioculars in gratitude for helping him during summer, a loud gong sounded, signalling the start of the Quidditch World Cup. Scores of people began pouring into the massive stadium specially erected, one that Mr Weasley told him could seat a hundred thousand, and the group hurried towards it quickly, eager to get in early before the rush.

"Prime seats!" The Ministry witch announced as she checked their tickets. "Top box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go!"

After getting into the lavish box, which so far was empty, Harry looked on curiously to see a tiny creature in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them, with long pointy ears and its face in its hands – in other words, a house elf.

"Dobby?" Harry wondered aloud, though it was most likely just a coincidence.

The tiny creature looked up at him. "Did sir just call me Dobby?"

"Sorry," the boy apologised.

"But I knows Dobby too sir!" the elf squeaked – and curiously, she was still shielding her face even though it was dimly light in the top box. "My name is Winky, and you, sir, is surely Harry Potter!" Her eyes widened as she looked at the boy's scar.

"Yeah, I am. How is Dobby?"

"Ah, sir..." Winky was shaking her head apologetically. "Meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why's that?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir. Ideas above his station, sir - can't get another position, sir."

Harry was curious. "Why?"

"He is wanting pay for his work, sir."

"Payment? Why shouldn't he want payment?"

Harry suddenly realised that was a bad thing to say as Winky looked at him in horror. "House elf is not paid, sir, no, no, no, I says to Dobby, you find yourself a nice family, but he is doing things unbecoming of a house elf... house elves do what they is told..."

Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. "I see..." He didn't completely understand it, of course, but he kept in mind that house elves were a completely different type of species, and as a different type of species, they had a completely different culture and thus a different set of social rules. Still, that certainly didn't meant wizards could just beat them like the Malfoys did to Dobby...

Over the next half hour, the boxes gradually filled and Harry was forced to shake the hands with Fudge, who introduced himself as a sort of father figure, as well as other influential persons. _Such a dirty politician.. trying to get in the favour of the boy-who-lived. _He mentally scowled, now knowing why Fudge had been so lenient on him the year before when he blew up his aunt. If there was one thing he had learnt from virtually every form of entertainment medium – politicians were never to be trusted. _Two-faced bastards. _

After a particularly unpleasant encounter with the Malfoys, the matches finally begun, as Bulgaria brought out their team mascots.

"I wonder what they've brought," Mr Weasley stated curiously as he leaned over the rails. "Ah!" He suddenly whipped his glasses off and polished them quickly. "Veela!"

A hundred of the most unnaturally beautiful women that Harry had ever seen glided out onto the field. They couldn't be human – the way their hair gleamed in the moonlight, their skin glowing ethereally as the music started and they begun to dance hypnotically...

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he quickly entered the Void, his mind growing cool and detached as he stuffed all of his emotions and thoughts into the Flame. He forced himself to turn away, for fear of their hypnotic effect, instead turning towards Hermione who was looking on in serious disapproval. "Hermione, what are Veela?"

The girl looked at him in surprise. "Harry – you're not affected?"

Harry looked around in confusion to see that many of the males in the stadium had jumped to their seat, a blank, blissful look in their eyes, and some even needed to be held back as they looked like they wanted to jump over the rails. "I guess not."

"Veela are semi-human creatures with a magically seductive appearance," Hermione explained.

"Sort of like sirens," Harry concluded as he leaned back in his seat.

Afterwards, the Irish brought out their mascot – leprechauns, who began showering the stadium with showers of gold – many of the audience were scrambling to pick it up.

When the leprechauns disappeared, and the teams flew onto the field, Harry leaned back, his omnioculars at the ready to watch the game.

-HP-

After an amazingly tense and legendary game, the Irish eventually came out on top, and as they got back to their camp site Harry was nearly deafened by the number of people celebrating and singing, as the group drank their cups of hot cocoa around the fireplace and began discussing the match with rapid enthusiasm.

Soon, after a lengthy debate, Mr Weasley called an end to it when Ginny started to fall asleep and they changed into their pyjamas, getting into their allotted bunk beds.

Harry, as he drifted off to sleep, was not replaying the match in his mind with him replacing Krum as the star seeker, as many of the other Weasleys were most likely doing. Oh, he was always enthusiastic about Quidditch and about flying, but even despite the amazing rush of being at the World Cup and the highs of the day, couldn't help but wonder what was happening in the next volume of _Bleach_, which he had neglected to get a copy of before he had to go. As Harry began to get more and more sleepy, closing his eyes and letting his body relax, his pondering suddenly yet not unpleasantly shifted into either a daydream or a full, but very eclectic dream of him standing there looking like a cross between all his favourite heroes hefting around a massive sword, pulsing with energy and yelling _"Bankai Rasengan HA!"..._

"Get up! Ron – Harry – get up, now, this is urgent!"

Harry sat up so quickly the top of his head hit the canvas. "S'matter?" He asked groggily, before realising immediately that something was wrong. The background noise had changed and the singing had stopped, replaced by screams. Suddenly realising the severity of the situation, Harry shook himself awake and forced his sleepy limbs out of the bunk as he swiftly got dressed, Ron following at his heels.

As soon as Harry got outside he saw a flash of green light as a crowd of tightly packed wizards wearing grotesque masks marched forwards, levitating several figures in the air – to his disgust he realised that it was a muggle family.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr Weasley shouted, followed hotly by Bill, Charlie and Percy. "You lot get into the woods as fast as you can, we'll meet you there!"

"_Lumos." _Hermione's wand lit up. "Come on, you heard what he said, let's go!"

Harry had the good sense to pull out his wand as well. _"Lumos." _He muttered as he followed her, making sure not to trip over anything in their path as they hurried out of the large camp site, pressed in all sides by the large crowds of people trying to get away. The boy was literally crushed as he tried to squeeze through them, getting pushed and shoved from every direction as the people tried to scramble away.

They quickly followed the dark path deeper into the wood as the sounds of the screams grew more and more distant, until finally they had gotten deep into the forest and they could hardly hear any noise at all.

"Looks like we're safe for the moment." Harry murmured, looking down – but alas, to the boy's shock he realised he wasn't holding his wand. Hurriedly he spun around, hoping he had simply dropped it somewhere nearby, but soon realised it must have slipped out of his grip in all the hurry. _Damn it, damn it, damn it! _Harry cursed himself in anger at realising he had made such a stupid mistake – and it had been in his hand no less! Now if anyone came along he was virtually unarmed and helpless, especially with his thin physical frame. _But then how can I even fight them off? Levitate them wandlessly to death? _The boy thought cynically, recalling the little trick he had learnt in the summer.

So relaxed was he in the summer that the dangers he had undergone seemed distant and too far away to bother him. He thought it would be a bit of fun, toying with his magic, but he had completely forgotten that even _with_ his wand he barely knew any defensive spells – at least real ones anyway. All he was, Harry realised with disgust, was someone who would just get in the way.

"MORSMORDRE!"

A burst of green light illuminated the forest, flying into the sky as it burst, forming the shape of a colossal, sinister green spell with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue – both Ron and Hermione looked at it in horror.

"Harry, we need to leave!" Hermione hand reached forward, tugging at his collar desperately with a pale and terrified face. "We need to leave _now_!"

"What is that thing?" Harry demanded as he followed her.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry, it's You-Know-Who's sign..."

_Sithspit. _

Before they had even taken a few hurried steps, however, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards – Harry whirled around, quickly registering that each of them had their wands out and were pointing at them. "DUCK!" He yelled without pausing to think, grabbing the other two and pulling them towards the ground.

"STUPEFY!" A blinding flash of red accompanied the roar of the voices as jets of light zinged right over their heads.

"Stop! STOP! That's my son!" Mr Weasley quickly burst into the clearing as the wizards all lowered their wands warily and the trio pulled themselves up. "Ron, Harry, Hermione – are you all right?" He asked shakily, striding forward.

"Out of the way Arthur!" A cold voice snapped, as Mr. Crouch and other Ministry wizards pushed past him, their faces taut with rage. "Which of you did it? Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?" The man demanded in fury.

"None of us did!" Harry answered back heatedly. "We're _just _students!"

"Don't lie! You've been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Come on Barty, they're kids, they'd never be able to..."

"Someone from over there," Hermione pointed to the place they had heard the voice, quivering. "Someone behind the trees..."

Amos boldly stepped forward, his wand at the ready as he walked into the darkness. They could hear the rustling of leaves and the snap of twigs before the man answered. "Blimey – there's someone here, but..."

"You got them?" A wizard asked.

Quickly, Amos re-emerged from the trees, carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms – one that Harry immediately recognised as Winky the house-elf.

Crouch looked at the form in shock. "This cannot be – no..."

"Don't bother looking, there's nobody there," Amos said, shaking his head morosely, though Crouch went through the bushes anyway, looking for signs of the culprit. "Bit embarrassing really... Barty Crouch's house-elf... I say..."

"Come off it, Amos, you really think the elf conjured the Dark Mark?" Arthur asked incredulously. "She'd need a wand, for one thing..."

"And she had one," Diggory said, raising the wand – one which Harry recognised immediately.

"Hey, that's my wand!" The boy said in shock before everyone at the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" Amos asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's my wand – it fell out of my hands as we were trying to get into the forest..." The excuse sounded weak, even in Harry's ears.

"Is that a confession? You threw it aside after you cast the Dark Mark?" Amos said in disbelief.

"Amos, you can't be serious!" Arthur butted in angrily. "Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er – no..." Amos mumbled. "Sorry, got carried away..." His gaze hardened as he raised his own wand. "_Ennervate!" _

Winky stirred feebly, looking up shakily before seeing the Dark Mark and bursting into terrified sobs.

"Elf – do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" Amos snapped. "And you've violated Clause Three of the Code of Wand use, for the Dark Mark!"

"I – I – I is not doing it sir!" Winky sobbed. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"I think you do - you picked it up and thought you'd have a bit of fun with it, is that right?"

_This is too cruel,_ Harry thought in disgust.

Winky was now crying. "I is... I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark sir, I is not know how!"

"It can't have been her," Hermione spoke up, slightly fearful in the presence of all these Ministry wizards. "Winky's voice is squeaky, the voice we heard was much harsher and deeper..."

"That's right," Harry piped in with his support, and Ron also nodded his agreement. "It was definitely a human voice.

"Well, we'll soon see. _Priori Incantato!" _The man sneered as a smoky serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met. "Looks like you've been caught red-handed. _Deletrius!" _Diggory shouted as the skull went out with a wisp of smoke.

"Amos, don't be ridiculous, where would she have learnt to do that spell – think about it, very few people actually know..."

By this time Crouch had returned. "Perhaps Amos is suggesting that I teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?" He stated, cold anger dripping from every word.

Silence. "Er... Mr. Crouch... not at all..."

At this point Harry, sick of being a spectator, piped in with his own opinion. "It looks like Winky was unlucky – the culprit clearly took my wand, conjured the Mark then disapparated, leaving the wand behind, and Winky simply picked it up by complete accident. We don't know the time gap between these events, meaning that Winky might not even have seen him."

"I agree with you, Harry," Arthur nodded. "That seems to be the most likely scenario."

"Amos, I know ordinarily you would take the elf in for questioning, but I must ask you to allow me to deal with her. You may rest assured that she will be punished." Crouch said, his face a cold, tight mask.

Diggory nodded grudgingly, clearly not wanting to upset the influential member of the Ministry.

By this time Winky was grovelling on the grass. "N-No! P-P-Please master, not clothes, not clothes!"

"You have failed your master, Winky. I specifically ordered you to stay in the tent, but here you are, at the scene of a crime, and as my elf, not only have you made yourself suspect, but also _me as well." _

"Winky is s-s-sorry, master! P-Please, n-not clothes, n-not clothes!"

"Come on kids, let's leave," Arthur said, and there was no room in his voice for argument – even from Hermione, who looked at this scene this with indescribable fury in her face.

Harry began moving as well, but once the others' backs were turned, he stopped and went back, waiting until Crouch pulled out a glove, tossing it to the sobbing elf before walking off dismissively.

Part of him felt extremely sorry for her – it was frankly disgusting, the way that she was being treated as he recalled the first fantasy book he ever read, the Lord of the Rings – Tolkien was right after all to suggest that different races would inevitably mistrust each other and for certain species to consider themselves superior.

And the other part of him felt extremely inclined to do something about it. _I know I'm going to regret this..._ Harry thought as he walked forward – this probably wasn't going to be the best decision he ever made, but at the same time, he felt it was the right thing to do, as the voice of Qui-Gon Jinn, from_ Star Wars _floated through his head, berating his young apprentice for being too future-focused - _"But not at the expense of the moment"... _

What was he, some pureblooded, wizard bigot? Standing by and doing nothing was the equivalent of a silent agreement that he thought this was right. Harry was many things, but he certainly didn't want to maintain the status quo of wizard society, and if fantasy games taught him anything, it was that even small things could make a difference, no matter how small they seemed.

And as Harry contemplated the moment in a way that would have made the Jedi Master proud, he knew this was the right call – one that Qui-Gon probably would have made as well. "Winky," he said slowly.

The elf paid him no attention, clutching the glove and continuing to sob pitifully.

"Would you... would you like to come and work for me?" Harry stated hesitantly.

Suddenly the house elf spun around, looking at the boy with wide, even hopeful eyes. "Harry Potter would like Winky to work for him?"

"Er – yeah. I won't pay you, if you don't want to..."

"Yes sir! Winky would be glad to be working for you sir!" The elf quickly got up, its previous depression vanishing as it bobbed its head enthusiastically.

Knowing that his time was running out before someone noticed he was gone, Harry needed to make it quick. "I can't give you the job right this instance – however I can later on. Is there somewhere you can go that's not too far from Hogwarts?"

"Winky can go work in the kitchens of Hogwarts if new master likes?"

"Er... yeah, that'll be good." Harry said lamely. "And after that we can make it official, if there's some sort of process involved."  
"Winky will do as new master asks!" The house elf said enthusiastically. "There is bonding process between house elf and master, so everyone knows that elf has work!" With that, the elf gave a bow, before vanishing with a pop.

"Harry!" Arthur's voice echoed in the distance. "Harry, where are you?"  
"I'm coming!" Harry yelled back as he moved off. Now he needed to find out just what the heck had happened here.

-HP-

A/N: A reviewer asked why Harry didn't exchange muggle money for galleons when he was going into London all the time – that's because he wasn't in London. Surrey is actually a county/town, quite a large and busy one, and it's been presumed by many fans that Little Whinging is in North Surrey. Surrey also is fairly wealthy and has a good economy.

As many of you have noticed, just because Harry knows a trick or two doesn't mean (at the moment anyway) that he is any stronger than he was in canon. He's probably less physically able than he was even, what with him just sitting around all day reading books and watching movies (occasionally). That contributed to him being clumsy enough for his wand to slip out of his grip.

Despite this, I hope it'll make an interesting change – Harry is nearly a nerd now, and everything he sees will be from that perspective – as a cynical keyboard warrior, occasional forum troll... just joking. I think. The fact that he sits around and watches while Crouch demeans his elf in canon even though he stands up to Malfoy in the second book because of it (?) is a point that's annoyed me, especially given his own background.

Still I always found it frustrating that Harry was so helpless and a spectator throughout the books even though he was too blind to see it himself. Now that he's made the connection between him and many other heroes who at one point or another were also in the same position, he actually wants to do something about it, which, despite all this, is a big improvement methinks.


End file.
